Momma, I'm in Love with a Criminal
by venomoxide
Summary: When Violet meets her new next-door neighbor, things don't go quite as she expects. As police cars and a state wide search for a killer in the area puts everyone on edge, she finds her previously dull life flipped upside down. / Violate
1. Barbecue Tongs and Cigarettes

**Summary:**_ When Violet meets her new next-door neighbor, things don't go quite as she expects. As police cars and a state wide search for a killer in the area puts everyone on edge, she finds her previously dull life flipped upside down._

**Rating:**_ M - Mature Content (Violence, Sexual Themes, Sensitive Topics and Language)_

* * *

The subway tile was cold against Violet's knees as she stretched, trying to reach the little silver coin. Without it, she would have to sneak past the spinning electronic arms that only moved when you gave up a dollar fifty. But without the quarter, inches from her fingertips, she didn't have enough money to pass. Giving up, she straightened up from the ground and waited near the gates, hoping for an increase of traffic. If enough people went through, she could easily just slip in with some other person. And sure enough, thirty seconds later, there were a few more people than usual. Turning down her music, just in case she needed to hear someone yelling after her, she held her breath and practically attached herself to some random guy's back, squishing up behind him as he passed through, taking her with him. He turned once through, eyebrow raising and she gave him a thankful smile before she disappeared into the crowd.

The train was leaving just as she hopped on and sank into a seat, thoughts swimming and tired. She was on her way to meet with her friend Leah. After her parents had divorced, she had gone on a 'downward spiral' as her father liked to say. He was a shrink. But in Violet's opinion, he was just full of shit. As for her mother, Vivien, Violet admired her. But Vivien thought it would be better for Violet to stay in California for a while. Violet knew she only said this because she didn't want the responsibility of taking care of her. That and she could tell her mother was craving freedom once more. So, here she was, stuck with her dad in the state she had just moved to nine months ago.

The move was supposed to be a fresh start. But Vivien had caught Ben cheating again almost two months ago and had decided that enough was enough. Violet hadn't seen her since. Occasionally she would get an email or a text message, but for the most part, her mother was a ghost to her.

And as for her dad, she was surprised that despite him being a huge, smart therapist, he failed to realize that his daughter needed legitimate help. She didn't think so, of course, but it was obvious to almost anyone who had known her before the divorce that she had taken it pretty hard. Smoking in school, skipping classes, getting into fights… It wasn't the old Violet. But the old Violet would never have become friends with Leah either. In fact, nine months ago, the two despised each other.

But times had changed and here they were – inseparable and joined at the hip. Leah had automatically taken Violet in, under her wing after her parents split. She had gone through the same thing, apparently, tons of times with her mom. Except her mom kept remarrying. So somehow, the enemy status had been exchanged for best friends for life. Besides, Leah helped her with more than just the emotional trauma. She helped her get cigarettes, alcohol if she wanted and even gave her money. Well… at least, she gave her jobs to do and then someone paid Leah who would hand the money off to Violet.

After the divorce, Violet also lost her job. She used to work in this nice little vintage CD shop on 15th Avenue. But after missing three shifts in a row, they let her go. And since then, money hasn't exactly been pouring in. The best she can do is whatever jobs Leah has lined up for herself. It's pretty shady work, at the end of the day. Hiding some weed for someone, dropping off a bag of drugs, or something else that was totally illegal. But in a way, Violet liked it. Doing bad things now made her feel alive. Made her feel like maybe her parents would realize how much they had messed up her life with their shitty marriage.

Forcing herself to stop thinking about everything, Violet focused on the Nirvana blasting in her ears. It was always a common thing for her to listen to before she went to work with Leah. It calmed her down.

Because now, they didn't just do 'petty' crimes. No, Leah had long discovered that being a girl, she could get a lot of money from guys for a pretty small favor. Violet joined her for the first time three weeks ago. At first, Violet had said she would just make sure that Leah didn't get murdered or something. But Leah assured her that she wasn't just finding these guys herself. She had a manager who took care of it all. After meeting the guy, Violet realized that he was a pimp. Which made Leah a prostitute… But in Violet's eyes, she could never be that. However, the guy offered for her to join as well. It didn't cost her anything, she just had to pay twenty percent of whatever she got from the guys to him.

It sounded like a good deal at the time. And so, she agreed and joined Leah. The first time she just sat there, smiling back at the guy while Leah did all the work. Occasionally, she would make out with her friend, just so she didn't feel so useless. But for some reason, that was one thing she couldn't do, no matter how bad it was. Losing her virginity. And it wasn't because she was a prude or something. Waiting until marriage seemed stupid. But giving it away to some guy who was paying her for sex seemed even stupider. Obviously, she didn't get paid as much, but she didn't mind. For three weeks, she was content with the amount she had made just being a prop.

But everything had changed earlier today when the two girls had been skipping Biology, sharing a smoke in the girls' washroom. They were squeezed into the stall together, passing the cigarette between the two of them, occasionally complaining about something. But during a lull of silence, Violet piped up.

"I'll do it."

Leah automatically clued in to what Violet was talking about. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"… Cool."

Leah was quiet for a few seconds as she put out the cigarette on the side of the bathroom stall, eyes focused on the smoke that curled up into the air. But a few seconds later, she was moving closer and closer until their lips connected. It wasn't a sexual kiss. Nor was it meant to be romantic. It was more of… a Leah thing. It only lasted a few seconds – brief, smelling of smoke and surprisingly soft – before she pulled away and the bell rang, signalling the end of classes.

So now, here she was, sitting on the train that she had to sneak onto, heading off to lose her virginity. It sounded so weird. And in a way, she had that feeling in the bottom of her gut that she was doing something wrong and she would most definitely regret it.

The automated voice that told you what stop you were at rang through the intercom and she caught the last bit of whatever it said, ear bud pulled from her ear as she stood. She didn't even need to hear the station name to know she was in the right one. It was where they always met. But for some reason, Leah wasn't there. Moving inside, so she wasn't standing out in the cold air, Violet debated lighting up a smoke. There was no one in the small shelter, besides her and this shady looking guy. And he reeked of smoke, so she assumed he wouldn't mind. Just as she was reaching for one though, she was practically tackled by a familiar head of brown hair and she grinned.

"Ready?" Leah questioned, smirking after Violet had fixed her hair, smoothing down the sides with a playful scowl.

"Yeah." It was a simple enough word – four letters and one syllable – but it was certainly not what her body was telling her.

Later, Violet felt numb. It had been five hours since she had met Leah at the train. And five hours ago, that feeling in her stomach had been right. Though it hadn't been exact. She should have been worried, but not because she was going to lose her virginity. Because she would chicken out. And she did. She had said no – far too late. She still could feel the sting under and around her eye from the guy's fist. Leah had tried to pry him off but he just kept hitting her. Eventually, Leah smashed him over the head with a lamp and they had booked it out, half dressed and holding each other.

But Leah had to go home, though she wished she could have stayed with Violet, and they parted ways when they reached her stop. Leah let her wear her coat, so she wouldn't have to walk home practically naked and then she was alone. The train ride was silent, save for the occasional ding above her head as they reached the last few stops before hers. After she got off, she walked home, half-running because it was far too cold outside for her liking.

She reached her doorway and stumbled inside, knowing that her dad would be passed out on the couch. If the light in the living room was on at the time, he was always asleep there, on the leather sofa, a bottle of beer in his hand or spilled over on the carpet. And like clockwork, as she tiptoed past the room, he was there, lightly snoring. But for once, she wasn't angry. In fact, she was grateful. With a swollen lip, black eye and bruised neck and cheek, she really didn't want anyone to see her at the moment. Knowing she would have to clean herself up, she made plans to go to the washroom after she went outside for a cigarette. She needed to calm down.

Still shaking as she stepped outside and took a few steps away, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag. It helped a bit. However, she practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of footsteps across from her. Head whipping to the side, she grabbed the nearest weapon – a barbeque tong – and held it out.

"What're you going to do with that?" The voice kind of came from nowhere. But if she squinted a bit, she could see a male, a bit taller than her, standing against the fence. She was bathed in the porch light, so he would be able to see her perfectly. But he was swallowed by darkness.

"I'll stab you," she warned, gripping it tighter, as if that might make a difference.

"No need. I didn't mean to scare you," he said, moving a bit closer with his hands raised in a state of defense. "I was just wondering if I could bum a smoke. We just moved in." He paused to gesture behind him at the previously empty house. It still looked abandoned to her, but at the moment, she didn't really care.

Hesitating for a few seconds, she slowly set the barbeque tong down and reached in her pocket, pulling out a smoke.

"Here," she said, holding it out for him to take. It seemed he had his own lighter, because he didn't ask for one, just reached into his pocket and illuminated the darkness for a few seconds with a small flame.

"Thanks." He spoke around the cigarette, a bit of a smile tugging at his lips.

She shrugged, not really caring that he was happy with his cigarette. She could feel his eyes on her, though. Not in a bad way – like the other guy. But like he was inspecting her. Which was normal, considering she probably looked like a car crash victim.

"What happened to you?" It was a fairly direct question, considering they were strangers and most people avoided the topic of bruises or injuries. Especially ones that could involve domestic abuse or something.

"Got into a fight," she replied coolly, eyes narrowing towards him as she took another drag of her cigarette. "No big."

However it was a 'big.' She felt violated, even though nothing had happened. Nothing she hadn't felt before. But it was scarier now, because she had almost lost something. And could have easily lost her life. Surprisingly, she didn't feel scared standing near this guy. Her new neighbour. But that didn't mean she was about to go telling him her life story.

"I bet you left the other person worse," the boy replied, smirk tugging at his lips, cigarette still hanging between them.

She cracked a tiny smile, nodding with a breath of a chuckle. "Yeah."

There was an awkward silence and she shuffled one of her feet, hitting it against the pavement as she focused on her backyard. It was pretty bare looking and the grass hadn't been cut in a while. He was probably wondering why the hell she looked naked, except for the jacket. It wasn't a very long jacket, cut to mid-thigh, so she looked like she was either dressed like a whore or not wearing any pants. He didn't comment though. In fact, she was proven wrong as she glanced over. He wasn't looking at her legs at all. He was staring at her face. It was kind of unnerving. The eye contact was something people usually didn't do a lot of.

"Well, I'm going to go inside before I freeze," she piped up awkwardly, clearing her throat as if that might help alleviate the awkward. Butting out her cigarette against the barbeque, she nodded towards him and began to walk to her house.

"Wait!" He called, stepping further into the light, so he could be seen clearly now. She wasn't really surprised to see he was around her age. She had guessed from his voice. "I'm Tate." He gave a lopsided smile as he greeted himself and nodded his head.

She was quiet for a moment before she opened the door and stepped into the doorway. "Violet," she replied, lips moving sideways in a sort of smile before it closed behind her and she was gone.


	2. Fences and Spying

The next morning, Violet woke with a groan. Barely even managing to remember the date, the memories of last night were far from her mind. Stumbling towards her mirror, she blindly grabbed for her hair brush, trying to de-knot her mess of hair. A few minutes later she finally succeeded, opening her bleary eyes, only to be greeted by a terrible looking sight. The bruises had darkened, ranging from dark blues and purples, to a sick yellow lining each of the small splotches. As for her eye, it looked like she had smeared black eye shadow around it and her lip was more than half the size it normally was.

Swallowing thickly through her dry throat, she attempted to roll her eyes, failing miserably as the action only brought on an aching pain. She popped two or three pain pills and got dressed, having still been in her clothes from last night. Checking her phone, she smiled a bit. Leah had sent her over fifteen text messages, telling her to get her ass over to her house as soon as possible.

Following demands, Violet got herself ready and snuck past her still sleeping father, making her way to Leah's. It wasn't too long of a journey, though a lot of people stared at her with questioning looks or looks of sympathy. Either way, she wished they would stop. She was over it by now. Or at least, she was forcing herself to be. Bottling up her emotions like she did with everything.

Knocking on Leah's door, she waited patiently for it to be opened, greeted by a sleepless looking brunette. She was swept into a hug and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.

"Violet… I… Jesus fuck." Leah was stammering, not really making a lot of sense as she pulled away, inspecting the damage, just like that boy had done last night. She had forgotten about him until now and tried to think back to when she left the house. Everything looked the same as it always had been on the lot beside them. No new car… no anything, really. She just assumed that they hadn't moved their stuff in and were living on mattresses or something.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Violet insisted, giving her friend a meaningful look. One that didn't leave room for arguments. Even so, Leah looked worried. But she did shut up about it, biting her lip for a moment before she led Violet upstairs into her room. It was a darkly decorated place, despite the fact that when they first met, Violet had pictured the girls room to be covered in pink and frilly shit, with pictures of her friends lining every surface. But it wasn't. In fact, it was almost like Violet's. Kind of edgy, kind of weird. To say she had been impressed the first time she had stepped foot inside would be an understatement.

Seating herself in her usual place – on the comfortable chair beside Leah's bed – Violet pulled her knees up to her chest, head leaning back as she sighed. The pain pills were barely helping, leaving her temples throbbing with lack of sleep and the discomfort of having been in a fight. But her virginity was still in tact and that was the only thing that truly mattered to her.

"You want anything? Some weed?" Leah was now in front of her mirror, fixing her hair. It was obvious that the brunette didn't get much sleep either. But she didn't look half as bad as Violet did. Mostly because all she had done was smack the guy with a lamp and run away. But Violet supposed that was a good thing. If anything, Leah wouldn't be able to get more work if she looked bruised up. Apparently it wasn't good for business.

"Nawh. Just a cigarette if you have any," she replied, forcing her head back up-right, eyes fixing on her friend. Pulling out a lighter, she lit up the cigarette as it was handed to her, a slight smile tugging at her lips. There were a few moments of silence, only filled with the soft sound of Violet's exhales and Leah moving to flop down onto her bed, her phone glued to her hand as she texted away.

"Oh, did you hear about that guy they're trying to catch? Notice all the police cars around today?" Leah's question was somewhat unexpected but it peaked Violet's interest. Crime was a common thing around here but it must have been a pretty big deal if they had called in a different police force.

"No? What'd he do?"

Leah set her phone down, eyes flickering upwards with a smile that suggested trouble. She was the kind of girl that loved to talk. Whether it was gossip, true, or just plain bullshit, she was the girl behind all the whispers. Slowly taking a drag, Violet waited for the story to begin, sure that she would make it more dramatic than needed.

"The people on the news are telling everyone else not to freak out. Saying it's no big deal... But other people are saying that the place that this guy came from? He only ran because he had no one else to kill. Goes after girls... Girls our age. But it's a real specific type, you know?" By now, Leah had slipped off the bed, slowly moving forward, as if she were telling a ghost story. "He would sneak up behind them in the middle of the night and then – bam!"

The noise made Violet jump a bit, the cigarette ashes hitting the floor as they drifted from her slightly burned down cigarette. Leah laughed a bit, sitting back on her bed as she lay back, hair fanning out around her. "He slices them to pieces."

Rolling her eyes, Violet took a final drag before she uncurled herself from the seat, moving to put out her cigarette in the ashtray. It seemed like a load of shit, in her opinion. Besides, Leah was always into watching those stupid crime shows anyways. It sounded like one the two had watched last week, if she recalled correctly.

"Well, as cheerful and happy as that story made me feel... I have to go deal with my dad. He's texted me about four times now." Violet glanced down at her phone, resisting the urge to throw it out the window as the screen flashed, signalling the fact that her dad had sent her yet another message.

"You sure, babe?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I'll see you later, okay?" Violet smiled a bit as Leah stood, wrapping her arms around her and gently kissing her cheek, being weary of the bruise.

"Bye."

Arriving back at her house, Violet stood out on the sidewalk instead of going inside. Her eyes were fixed on the house next to hers. There was still nothing there. No moving truck, no new car... Hell, there wasn't even a sign of life from what she could tell. Eyebrows pulling into a frown, she continued to stare for a few moments before she heard her dad's voice calling her inside. His head was sticking out of the front door, hand waving her forward.

"What do you want, dad? It's a Saturday." She had waited until she was inside to drop her messenger bag on the ground, ignoring the loud thud it made when it connected with the hardwood.

"Exactly. You were supposed to be home today. I'm trying to help you, Violet. I want you to get better. First step is getting a job."

The entire time her dad talked, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Wandering across the living room, she plopped down onto the couch, eyes fixed on the window, making it a point to ignore her father. He was still blathering on about how she needed to take initiative and become more responsible. But she was too focused on the sudden glimpse of blonde hair from beyond the fence. Eyebrows pinching down for a moment, her neck strained to see closer. It was the first sign of life from over there since yesterday.

"Yeah, whatever," Violet cut her dad off as she hopped up from the couch, snatching up her bag and walking out the backdoor. Ignoring his shouts, she listened to the leaves crunch under her feet and slipped across her backyard, into the alleyway behind her house. It wasn't quite cold yet, as it usually got around this time of year. They had been graced with a warm Fall. But it was still chilly. She wrapped her arms around herself, standing on her tiptoes, trying to see over into the new neighbours yard. Curiosity was making it impossible to ignore it. Nothing nearly exciting had happened for quite awhile.

"Looking for something?"

The sudden noise made her jump, almost losing her balance. Catching herself at the last second, her head whipped around, eyes widening a bit. It was the guy from yesterday. "No," she lied, arms folding over her chest in a somewhat defiant way. It was embarassing to be caught so quickly.

"Just admiring the view, then?" She didn't like his tone. It was far too sarcastic for her liking. And there was a strange kind of amusement in his voice that transferred into a small smirk on his lips.

"Yeah."

There was a moment of somewhat awkward silence where they just stared at each-other. Him, with his hands in his pockets and slightly hunched over posture. With the daylight on her side this time, she could see him more clearly. His features were somewhat boyish – slightly defined jawline and locks of unkempt golden hair that hung in his eyes. There was a little cut on his lip and even though she hadn't noticed it before, there was a small white line near his neck. A scar.

"You go to school?" The question pulled her from her inspection and she blinked a few times, inhaling slowly.

"Yeah. Go to St. Francis. It's just down a few blocks... You'll be going there too, right? Once you transfer..." She wasn't sure why she assumed he was her age, but there was no way he could be graduated. Too much boyish appeal in his gaze.

"No. I'm home-schooled. Besides, we move around a lot," he replied, gaze never leaving hers. It was kind of unnerving. Most people didn't keep such steady eye-contact.

"Oh... Cool, well, uh... Welcome to the neighbourhood." Violets lips pulled into a slightly awkward smile before she began to walk away, despite the urge to keep talking to him. It wasn't often that someone her age could hold a conversation with her for longer than five minutes without making her want to pull her hair out.

"Mind buming me another smoke?" He was suddenly walking in sync with her, though still a few meters away. He stopped when she did, eyebrows raised in a somewhat hopeful way. Letting out another sigh, she dug in her bag before grabbing her pack, handing one over.

"You owe me though," she warned, a kind of smile gracing her lips. As she started walking again, she realized that it was the first genuine smile that she had made in a long while.


	3. Playing Cards and Blood Light

It was only a few hours later that day, when night had started to fall, when Violet decided to return home. Leah had offered for her to sleepover but Violet wasn't in the mood for the other girl's stories. All she wanted to do was collapse on her bed, listen to some music and eventually drift off to sleep. Being alone seemed like the perfect way to spend the rest of her evening. Besides, the two girls had spent the day wandering around Downton – looking at little antique shops and getting bubble tea. And as fun as all of that had been, she was feeling pretty anti-social at the moment.

But when she reached her driveway, she found her gaze stuck on the neighbours house again. Ignoring the cold, for favour of staring. It still seemed empty. There was no car, no light on... All things considered, it was almost one in the morning, so they were probably asleep. But it just seemed so strange... Almost as strange as the boy who lived there. What was his name again? Tate. The name was also strange. Not extremely – but it certainly wasn't one that she had heard before. Or, at least, she had never met someone with that name.

Violet often found herself drawn to certain people. Like Leah, for example. Even when the girl hated her guts, she still found pleasure in annoying her. Just getting a small reaction was enough back then. But now the two were best friends. Most of her relationships worked that way, actually. She rarely made acquaintances – just found herself drawn to people and if that happened, she tried her hardest to get to know them better. It was kind of like a form of superstition.

She realized that at least five minutes must have passed only when her fingers refused to close around her set of keys properly. Deciding she should go inside before they fell off completely, she tore her eyes away from the house and walked away.

* * *

"What're you looking at?"

The sudden sound in the quiet room made him flinch, eyes flickering away from where he had previously been staring. Inhaling slowly, Tate turned from the window, gaze falling on his mother. She was beautiful, in her own way. With age being kind to her, she held a regal kind of charm. Yet as his eyes met hers, he was reminded that her kind exterior was just a well refined mask. Inside of her dark eyes, there was a cold-blooded monster. Just like his own.

"Nothing," he mumbled, slowly shuffling across the room, so he could drop down to sit near the wall, fingers gently running over the pack of cards that had half-fallen from one of the few bags that scattered the room. The only light was obscured by a heavy filter, causing the room to be bathed in a devilish red glow. But he had grown used to it by now.

"Well... this nothing could very well cost us our lives, Tate. The police are crawling out there, looking for you. Do you know that? Leaving this place twice in less than twenty four hours... God graced you with a beautiful face, yes, but sometimes I wonder if he forgot to give you a brain." The sentence was followed by a short laugh, ringing in the room and making his head hurt. Her voice was just as sweet as she appeared to be, but the insults stung, nonetheless.

Eyes fixed on the cards, he nodded, unblinkingly listening to the gentle sound of the lamp flickering. He didn't like lying to his mother, but he couldn't tell her about that girl. Violet. Even her name threatened to bring a smile to his face as he sat, alone in the red sea of light. He couldn't help but watch as she stared up at their temporary house, looking like something from a dream. Bathed in streetlight and curious as ever... When he had first seen her, he had battled with himself for only a few seconds before starting up a conversation. But something about her scared him. Not because of her, really, but because of emotions he had never felt before. Whoever had hurt her, leaving bruises painted across her body... He could still feel the remnants of complete madness that lingered in his veins, singing for him to torture that bastard.

"Not now, Tate."

His mothers voice caused his head to snap up, eyebrows pulling into the smallest of frowns.

"You can't risk killing someone right now. It's too soon."

"I wasn't thinking about it, I-" But he was cut off, her voice sharp and jutting, like a knife piercing his skin.

"_Don't_ lie to me. I know that look in your eyes. That devilish evil... You can't hide it from me. From everyone else, yes. But not from your momma." And with that, she stood from where she had been sitting and disappeared into another room, not bothering to close the door behind her.

He stared at the door that she had stalked through, eyes unwavering, swimming with a mirage of emotions. Hatred, shame, confusion. But there was one that he had never felt before. Desire. For the first time in his life, he wanted something. Really wanted something. Sure, he had wanted to kill before. But this, this was different. It was... intoxicating. By the time he glanced down again, to stare at the cards, he was surprised to see that he had torn apart most of the casing, exposing to him the queen of hearts. Gently prying it from the package, he held it up to his eye level, head tilting as he stared at it.

* * *

Rolling to her side, Violet let out a small groan, cursing the sunlight that filtered in through her blinds. It was always strange to her, that she felt shittier on weekends, after having a chance to sleep in. But then again, things had been weird lately. Or at least, since two days ago, when she had the terrifying encounter with that guy. A few more minutes passed before she forced herself up and awake, stumbling out of her bed.

It only took her a few minutes to get dressed and fix her hair as best she could before she was on her way downstairs, drawn by the smell of coffee.

"Hey," she greeted her dad, grabbing a mug of coffee and letting her fingers curl around the warmth.

"Morning sunshine," he replied, sending her a slight smile.

It was a usual ritual for the two. They would pretend for awhile that everything was perfect. That her mother and his wife hadn't abandoned the train wreck of a family that they were and they they were happy. It usually worked, for the most part. There were a few moments of silence before Violet piped up, figuring she might as well try to start some kind of conversation. Besides, she needed to borrow some money and her dad was usually willing as long as she was pleasant in the morning.

"So... new neighbours, hey?" Her head dipped down as she took a sip of coffee, but after a prolonged silence, her gaze moved back up, surprised to see that her dad looked confused.

"Since when?" He questioned, knife lifted in the air, as if he had paused half-way through buttering his toast.

"Like... two days ago? Some guy around my age and the rest of his family." She wasn't actually sure how many people were living there, but she assumed. Besides, she didn't want to let on how interested she was in the fact that they now had neighbours, after the house had been abandoned for so long.

"Really? That's... interesting. Didn't even see a for sale sign." Hearing this, Violet tried to wrack her mind for any memory of the house being put up for sale. As far as everyone in the neighbourhood knew, it was just an abandoned house. No one even took care of the garden or cleaned the drains. But yet, there were people living there now. And her dad was too much of a drunk anyways to have a valid opinion. He could barely remember his own last name some nights, so why would she count on his memory for this?

"Right... Well, anyway. Can I borrow a twenty?" She decided to just jump while she was ahead. The happy family facade was quickly disintegrating in front of her eyes, while her father continued to annoy the hell out of her. Might as well get the money before she pissed him off somehow.

He hesitated for a moment before he sighed, pulling out a twenty from his pocket, sliding it across the table.

"Don't spend it on cigarettes."

"Thanks dad. You know I won't." She smiled a bit, eyes resisting the urge to roll as she patted his hand, grabbed the money alongside her coffee before sliding off the chair, making her way to her room once more. The talk of cigarettes had reminded her that she had forgotten those on her dresser and it was always a bad day when she forgot those.

However, once she reached her dresser, her fingers curled around the pack but her attention was drawn to something right beside them. Frowning, she let go of the smokes and reached over for it, lifting it up. It was a playing card, that had been resting on a brand new pack of cigarettes. More specifically, the queen of hearts. Flipping it over, she read the slightly messy printing on the back.

**_You said I owed you_**.


	4. Horror Movies and Games

While she sat, head propped up on Leah's shoulder, Violet couldn't focus on the horror movie in front of her eyes. She could see the lame blood splatter every few seconds but it wasn't registering. Instead, she was focused on the object burning a hole in the back pocket of her jeans. A playing card. Simple, sure, but... It had been placed in her room. And she knew exactly who had left it. There was no question. Oddly enough, she couldn't decide if she was intrigued or creeped out. At the moment, because she wasn't in her room and alone, she was feeling impartial about it. Whatever. Some guy next door broke into her room to give her a pack of cigarettes.

But then she remembered that she didn't even know this guy and yet, she had already smoked two of the cigarettes he had left her. They could have easily been laced with something deadly or super addictive. Yet, she didn't care. It was just another part of 'reckless' Violet. It had reached the point where she felt so numb, she would do anything to feel again.

"You okay, babe? You've been quiet," Leah mumbled, slowly turning to look over at the ashy blonde.

"Hm? Oh, I'm good. Just kind of tired."

"Something's on your mind. I know that look." And as much as Violet hated to admit it, Leah really did know. Just like she knew for Leah as well. If something was wrong, it was next to impossible for either of them to hide it from the other. Luckily for Violet, she was trained to lie more than Leah was.

"Just thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" By now, the movie had been paused and Leah had shifted, so she was facing Violet and the two were sitting across from each-other. Pulling her knees to her chest, she sighed, resisting the urge to pull out the card. She knew that Leah would make a big deal about it, especially after the incident with that guy. She had been pretty protective over Violet since then, turning on the extreme watchful bitch mode. But for the most part, Violet had pretty much forgotten about it. Nothing had happened and the most important part of her was still in tact. With virginity still kicking, she didn't see the point of getting upset over it.

"Just... divorce stuff." It was a total lie, but there was some truth behind it. She thought about her parents a lot. And at the same time, she wondered what Tate's parents were like. Or if she would ever see them emerge from that house. They were like a coven of vampires, or something, from a badly done horror movie.

"Well, I know what that's like. Thinking about what it would have been like if they hadn't split up? Or..." Leah trailed off, leaving room for Violet to bring up the real problem.

"I guess. I don't know. I'm just... I feel like I'm playing a game, you know? I never know what move to make next, or which move anyone else if going to make." It sounded cheesy and somewhat cryptic, like something off of a fortune cookie, but it was how she felt. And this way there was some truth behind her words. It was like a literal game with Tate now and the card he had left.

"Play back. But with a poker face." That was all Leah said, before she messed up Violet's hair and leaned back, restarting the movie as her eyes focused on the screen. Gaze turning back to the film, Violet was silent for awhile as she sat and thought. As some blonde's neck was slashed, she finally blinked, a small smile on her lips. _Yeah. She would play back_.

An entire day had passed before Violet chose to reciprocate the message. Firstly, she had needed the time to think of something just as clever. Secondly, she didn't want to seem... too interested. Besides, this was kind of weird in it's entirety. Her plan was to write on another card and slip it under his door. Not exactly the most creative but she thought it would have to do.

Once she made it to her room, though, she stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn't actually been back in her room since she found the pack of cigarettes and the card. Having slept over at Leah's and with school today, she had set foot in her room for the first time in twenty four hours. It seemed... the same as always. But different, in a way. Like it had been violated. And as she stood there, just staring at all the things in her room, she imagined him there too. Running his hands over her stuff, examining every little detail of her private space. It seemed surreal, to think that only a few days ago, she had first met him. And then suddenly, he had been in her room without her permission or knowledge.

Biting her lip, she rushed over to her desk and rummaged around for the card. Instead of the queen of hearts, she chose the joker. It seemed fitting, in response to him. Next grabbing for a thick black marker, she popped the cap off and stared at the back of it. What would she write? '_Thanks for the cigarettes_' seemed a bit... less poetic and cool than what he had written.

Sighing in frustration, she put the cap back on, sliding both the card and the marker into her bag before she raced down the stairs again, taking them two at a time. Slipping out the backdoor, she was greeted by the chilly night air nipping at her skin. It seemed eerily quiet as she circled around her backyard and out into the alleyway again, listening to the gravel beneath her feet. Was she really doing this? She knew nothing about this guy... Nothing at all.

But the thrill of adventure was fresh in her veins and she realized with a start that she was actually smiling. It was more of a smirk, but it was close, nonetheless. Swallowing her nerves with a gulp of ice cold air, she quietly unlocked the gate to their backyard, stepping inside carefully. She didn't close it, for fear of it creaking or making an incriminating noise. Even the grass beneath her feet seemed loud to her as she crept, edging towards their backdoor. As far as she could see, there was no one inside. In fact, it looked even more abandoned than she could remember. After climbing the stairs at a snails pace, she continued to stare at the door, debating with herself. The place literally looked empty.

Curiosity made her reckless and before she could stop herself, her fingers were curling around the doorknob, turning it as quietly as possible. Pushing it open, she let out a breath of air as she practically fell inside, catching her foot on the door step. There was no alarm going off and she didn't hear anything else from inside, so she released her grip that had kept her from falling and walked all the way into the house.

Her heart was racing at a million beats per minute, making her somewhat lightheaded. But she hadn't felt this alive for a long, long time. And this feeling was addictive. That was why she got into fights and broke everything she could. But somehow breaking and entering was a thousand times more exciting. Licking her lips, she walked around a bit, surprised to see that it was completely empty. There was no furniture, no mattresses... Nothing. Frowning a bit, she wandered into the area she assumed was the kitchen. There were a few bags of food lying around, though, so that was promising.

Deciding to wander up the stairs, she began to walk, keeping in mind not to make any unessecary noise. She wasn't sure if anyone was in here or not. But she would rather not risk it. Reaching the top of the stairs, she pushed open a random door, greeted by nothing but completely red light. There was a filter sitting over a lamp that turned the entire room a shade of red. Every surface glowed with a damp, deluded crimson and she was sure her face looked the same. Drifting further into the room, she let her gaze wander around, staring at the bareness. There were a few chairs, a backpack and... a ripped up package with cards strewn around it. The sight made her remember why she was here in the first place, instead of playing detective.

"Shit..." Cursing under her breath, she glanced around before she dropped to her knees, pulling out the card and the marker, wracking her brain for something to write. Something creative and witty. That was when she heard the footsteps.

Freezing where she was, Violet could have sworn that her heart stopped in her chest for a moment. There was no telling who the footsteps belonged to, or where they were coming from. She figured from downstairs, because they didn't sound loud enough to be so close to her. Straining to get a better listen, she realized that they were high heels. The distant clicking against the hardwood was impossible to mistake. Before she had the chance to bolt upright, there was suddenly a pair of arms around her and a hand clamped over her mouth, to muffle the scream of surprise that threatened to escape. Flailing for a moment, she only stopped when the grip tightened, practically hugging her to whoever it was, and she heard the low and urgent voice in her ear.

"Shut up, Violet." It was Tate. As she took a moment to process, her erratic fighting had stopped and he loosened his grip a bit, as if he didn't trust her enough to let her go completely.

"Tate?" The sound of a woman's voice interrupted Violet's train of thought, pulling her gaze towards the door as she tried to breath around the hand that was still placed over her mouth.

"_Hide_."

The singular word held no chance for her to argue. She had no other option. The arms released her and she practically fell over in her attempt to rip open the closet door and hide herself within the darkness. She caught the faintest glimpse of Tate, standing in the middle of the room, watching her with expressionless eyes. But then she closed the door and he was gone, leaving her in silence.


	5. Disbelief and Conversations

She couldn't tell quite how long it had been. And though it felt like an incredibly long time, she was sure it was only about ten minutes that she had been submerged in the blackness. Her heart was still racing, thudding against her temples and in her ear drums like a staccato beat that worked to keep her from fainting right here and now. Sure, it was a dumb idea to break into some guy's house, that she had just met a few days ago. But then again, he didn't have to scare the shit out of her. In retrospect, she realized that she should be considering herself lucky. At least he hadn't ratted her out or called the police or something. The last thing she needed was another breaking and entering on her record. Letting her head lean back against the wall, she counted the number of breaths the took, to estimate each minute that passed. She had gotten to three before the closet door was suddenly ripped open, the red light almost blinding her despite the dull luminescence.

Eyes snapping open, she blinked at the sight of Tate once more. He looked strained and slightly annoyed, but there was a hint of a smile hiding within his pursed lips. Holding up a finger to his lips, he signalled for her to be silent as his other hand gently wrapped around her upper arm, tugging her out. His lips were next to her ear again, the words so quiet that they were barely a breath.

"We're going on the roof, down the siding and just keep walking. Make a noise and my mother will kill you."

She would have laughed, or even cracked a smile, but the tone of his voice made her apprehensive, for it didn't sound like he was kidding. So she stayed quiet, following him to the window and climbing out onto the roof after he lightly pushed on her back, nudging her to leave. She couldn't hear him following behind her. He made no noise, like a ghost in the middle of the night. Yet she knew he was there, for he was keeping her steady as she crept across the roof, with his hand on her back.

Once they had made it to the grass below, she barely had time to get her balance before he had grabbed her arm again, tugging her away. She tripped a few times, glancing over her shoulder as she stared at the two retreating houses. Her own house, right next to the suddenly ominous looking one that she had just been inside. It seemed surreal, to see the two beside each-other. One, she had just moved into, not too long ago. And the other, had been there all along. But now, as she stared at it, retreating in the darkness... It seemed more evil than before.

Finally, once they had reached a small neighbourhood park almost a block away, they stopped and he let go of her arm. There was a moment of silence, where she caught her breath and he simply stared at her, eyebrows pulled down into confusion. Like he couldn't understand her at all.

"What were you doing?" The question was unexpected, especially coming from him. In fact, she felt herself step back, face shifting into a somewhat insulted expression. What was _she_ doing? He was the one who had broken into her room first.

"What – breaking and entering is only okay if you do it?" She snapped, her nerves making her edgy and somewhat impulsive. He had no right to act like this. Like she was the bad guy. There was another moment of silence, where she watched his face, contorting silently as if he were confused. There was this kind of blankness in his eyes and it sent shivers down her spine, making her realize yet again that they had just met. There wasn't any reason for her to be talking to him. Hell, she knew his first name and that was it. So why did she like being around him so much?

"It's different. My mom... She's... she's not a good person, Violet. You don't understand. And I didn't break into your room. Your window was unlocked." There was no sense of sarcasm in his voice. He was being completely serious. However, for her, his logic was lost.

Letting out a small breath of frustrated air, she pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closing. This was so... fucked up. There was no other way to describe it. Here was this boy – completely and utterly strange, with his oversized sweaters and unkempt hair – standing in front of her, looking like she had kicked his puppy or something. Even when her hand fell from her nose, he was still staring at her with those endless eyes, as if he were waiting with bated breath for her response.

Finally, she let a small bit of a smile slip. "I take it you sneak out a lot," she mumbled, bottom lip catching between her teeth as she cast another glance in the direction of their two houses.

His own lips pulled into a smile and he nodded, relief evident in his expression. Relief for what? She didn't know. But for now, she didn't really care. The only friend she had was Leah and sometimes, that girl drove her up the wall. But Tate was different. It was like he somehow understood everything about her, without even knowing her. Yet, she was left empty-handed when it came to understanding him. He was still a mystery.

"What card were you going to give me?"

Eyebrows shooting up at the question, Violet floundered for a second. How did he know she was going to give him a card? It might have been common sense but even then...

"I... what?"

A short laugh escaped him, falling into the night air with ease, like it belonged in the darkness. She felt herself smile along with him, tension from the earlier encounter starting to fade.

"Well?"

She hesitated for a moment, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she shrugged. It was one thing to leave a card for someone and have them look at it later. But to have them see it right in front of your face... It was nerve-wracking. She found herself pulling it from her bag, though, and holding it in front of his face. His smile fell as he stared at it, eyes fixed on the picture of the joker. She wondered what he was thinking and if she had somehow made the wrong decision... What if she had offended him?

"Joker..." He mumbled, head tilting as he grabbed the card from her hands, turning it around a few times. "Fitting. No message though."

"Couldn't think of anything to write..." Violet trailed off a bit, realizing the entirety of the metaphor that stuck out like a sore thumb. She couldn't think of anything to write because she didn't know him. Not really. Yet, he had written something. Sure, it was simple, but at least it had been something. When it came to him, her mind was just blank. Nothingness. Except for the occasional smile.

The silence only hit her when she noticed that he had stopped staring at the card and had gone back to looking at her instead. He did that a lot. Just staring.

"Well, I think I'll-" she was cut off by him, a bit of urgency in his voice.

"Walk with me?"

Her eyebrows knitted once more into confusion as she stared back at him. He looked... desperate, almost. Like he literally needed her company at the moment. Thinking for a moment, she thought of going back to her dad. Going back and arguing about nothing and everything all at once. In retrospect, spending time with Tate seemed nicer than that. Disregarding everything she had learned about strangers or bad decisions or being responsible, she nodded.

"Yeah. Okay."

First, they kind of just walked in silence. He trailed in front of her, letting her follow him as he led the way. She hadn't asked where they were walking, really. And after a few minutes, she had already begun to relax. Not having a plan was nice. Free. And she could see now why he had been so desperate. From what he said, his mother was just as bad as her dad was, so needing an escape was something she could easily understand.

"Why did you move?" She was the first to bring up a conversation topic, thinking it might help alleviate the silence that had fallen between them. It was like a cloud, lingering between their two bodies. It separated them, yet kept them bonded together with a thin veil of distance.

"We do it a lot. My mom doesn't like staying in one place for too long, you know? What about you? Why did you move?"

"I... wait, what? I didn't move."

"No, not recently. But you're not from here. I can tell."

There it was again. That weird, all-knowing kind of mindset that caused her mind to wave little red flags around, hoping that she would listen for once. But it was like a car crash. She couldn't look away from him and couldn't seem to leave him alone now. A beautiful disaster. Yet, she had the inkling feeling that she wouldn't be the onlooker in the crash, but the one thrown through a windshield.

"My mom and dad tried to get a fresh start. Apparently they think moving across the country would help save their marriage. Some good that did. My dad just cheated on my mom with some other skank who lives here... Now she left. Went back to Florida and I'm stuck with him."

They had reached a little man-made forest, standing just near the edge of it. It was nestled in between a few houses and another little park. Kind of misplaced and seemed like it didn't belong anywhere. Like the two of them. Tate had stopped walking and he had gone back to staring at her. The dark pair of eyes didn't unnerve her for once and she stared right back, listening to the steady sound of her heart beating in her ears.

"My dad left me with my mom when I was only two years old. Left me with a cocksucker. Imagine that, right? I've been with her ever since. Home-schooled. Normal school was never good enough for her 'perfect son.'" There was a tone of bitterness in his voice that hadn't been there before. It fell from his lips like smoke, curling around her and making her skin crawl with slight discontent. But not only discontent. Familiarity. He knew exactly what it was like to hate your parent, but know that you could never really hurt them. Not really. Because all things aside, there was still that bond. Invisible and annoying, but it was there.

"I'm sorry." It was an automatic response for her, whenever someone told her a part of their life. It was the socially acceptable one, after all.

"No you're not." The reply was blunt, followed by a small amused smile. "But it's okay. Because you're different. You're not sorry, but you understand. That's not the same thing. It's better."

She hadn't realized before but he was suddenly closer than before, staring down at her with those same dark and emotionless eyes. But, this time, there was something in them. Some kind of emotion, some kind of spark. Her lips parted, as if she were going to say something, but no words came out. Just a shaky exhalation. And then his lips were against hers. Not rough, not insistent. Just... there. Surprisingly gentle and soft.

It barely lasted a moment before he had pulled away, gaze threatening to burn a hole straight through her own eyes. Remembering to breath, she tried to think of what to say. But for some reason, her mind was blank. Blank except for the singular thought that she couldn't believe he had done that. Nor could she believe that she was leaning up on her tip-toes, connecting their lips once more.


	6. Disappointment and Suggestions

Almost an entire week had passed and Violet felt as if she had been sent through a whirlwind of emotions. The beginning of the week, directly after their kiss, the two had spent an odd amount of time together. After school, he would be waiting for her by her backyard, lingering around the fence line with his usual boyish smirk. From there, the two would venture to the park and smoke, while they talked about everything they hated. For once, Violet felt like she could lose herself with someone. There was finally another person who understood her darkness... who accepted it. Who would sit and talk about all the shitty things that people did or said, and everything they wished they could do. He wanted to live far away on an island, where it was just him. She liked the sound of that. He wanted to go back in time, to when Kurt Cobain had been alive and shake his hand. She liked the sound of that too. Of course, Tate often closed off from certain questions. He didn't like to talk about his mother, nor did he particularly like to be asked about where he had come from or why they had moved. But Violet didn't mind. There would always be that certain kind of... mystery that hung around him. Of that, she was certain.

And sometimes, he would even kiss her.

That was the one thing that made Violet feel... different. It sounded like bullshit, really. She hated those people who got so stupid over another person, but something about Tate made her feel alive. Ironically enough, he also had the ability to make her want to die at the exact same time. Sometimes, when they would sit nestled in that odd little park near both of their houses, he would lift up her sleeve and run his fingers over her scars. He would feel the little white marks, raising goosebumps on her skin. And those eyes... Those dark, seeing eyes would stare at her, with a glint of hurt shimmering inside of them. An iridescent display of how it pained him to know that she felt the need to harm herself. But then, suddenly, everything had stopped.

In the middle of the week, Tate wasn't there waiting for her. At first, Violet had shrugged it off. It wasn't as if she had really wanted him to be there. Honestly, she had just met the guy. And obviously, there was something wrong with him, if he was spending time with her. But no matter how many times she told herself that, it didn't dilute the creeping sensation of stinging rejection that prickled at her skin. The night passed and even as she sat on her porch, expecting him to join her for a night time cigarette, the feeling was still there. He didn't show and she went to bed with a hollow feeling in her stomach.

That hollowness thickened over the next three days. It changed from an emptiness inside of her belly, to a surprisingly white hot emotion of anger. She hadn't seen a ghosting glimpse of the blonde since three nights ago. And without a word of notice, she had the terrible feeling that he had moved on. That maybe his controlling mother had forced him to help her pack up and then – bam. No more Tate. No more late night cigarettes and long, pointless talks as their backs dug into uncomfortable bark on the trees. And the anger wasn't just for him, either. She was angry at herself for even becoming so invested in a singular person. She had always been the type of person to scoff in the name of adoration. All the other girls were dependent and needy and ended up getting their heart broken over some brainless guy who didn't even care for them.

Though, she supposed that she couldn't blame herself too much. Tate was far from brainless. In fact, that was one thing about him that scared her the most. He was too smart, too knowing, too... present. For someone his age, he was far too mature. Almost as if he had seen things that his peers could only dream about in nightmares. So, perhaps, she could forgive herself for becoming so infatuated with him in such a short span of time. People like Tate were rare. People with actual thoughts, who weren't brainless droids.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

It had been four days since she had seen him. The day had passed in a haze of snarky comments and hurt looks from Leah, who had no idea why Violet had suddenly started acting so crazy. Or, well, crazier than normal. Her father was drunk more than usual lately, but even that didn't deter Violet from locking herself in her room and curling up on her bed, music blaring. Her dad could drink himself to death, for all she cared. Maybe then someone would notice that her life was slowly falling apart – ripping from the seams and unravelling into a mess of nothingness on the floor. Violet turned over from her side, so she was lying flat on her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. It was hard to see, now that the darkness had completely overtaken her room. All she could hear was the faint sound of her music. Her playlist had gone on so long that it had reached the more melodic and angst ridden tracks. Letting her eyes close, she pictured Tate.

Her visual memory was pretty shitty, but she surprised herself for being able to envision him so clearly. She could see the little dimple that dug at his cheek when he let a rare smile go. And his mop of blond hair fell exactly around his face the way it always had. Her mind drifted to his fingers... The same ones that had caressed her scars – fresh and old. Boys had never really interested her. Sure, she had always imagined herself finding a boyfriend and eventually getting married when she was younger. But as she grew up a little, she realized that boys were shit-heads and all they wanted was one thing. Sex. Even the word made her flinch. It was such a disgusting thought – one that made her literally cringe in the darkness of her bedroom.

But this new side of her slowly coerced her mind into thinking of kissing Tate. That hadn't been disgusting. In fact, she had enjoyed kissing him. More than he seemed to, anyway. Her cheeks flared as her mind wandered to thoughts that had never crossed her mind and she flipped over on her side, groaning into her pillow in a tormented way. Tate was driving her crazy. Certifiably insane.

Violet hadn't really realized that she had fallen asleep, were she to be honest. Somewhere between cursing Tate's existence and wishing that he was here with her, she had drifted off into a light slumber, occasionally woken by the faintest sound. The third time it happened, though, she sat up. Her sheets were tangled, wrapped around her legs in an awkward position. As she struggled to free them, she caught the faint outline of someone standing in the darkness, making her heart plummet to the floor. The first thought she had was that it had to be the guy that had attacked her and Leah. However, before the faintest of gasps escaped her lips, a hand was over her mouth, tightly restraining any noise that she might have made. Almost landing a punch on the intruder's face, she finally kicked her legs free, trying to twist off the bed before she was murdered. However, an urgent whisper of a familiar voice made her freeze for an entirely different reason.

"_It's me._"

Tate? With him a bit closer and her eyes more adjusted to the light, she realized that it was indeed the teenage boy. Though her heart was still racing, she was no longer flailing around like a murder victim. Instead, she was stock still, her chest heaving with adrenaline. He seemed to take her lack of movement as a positive sign and slowly let his hand drop, falling onto the bed beneath him. He was half sitting, half leaning on one of his knees, the dark of his eyes staring intently at her, as if he were afraid she might scream.

"What the fuck?" She whispered, a bit more venomously than she normally would have. "Are you_ trying_ to give me a heart attack?"

Tate's head dipped with an apologetic bob, shaking from side to side. "No, I-"

But she was too quick for him. "First I don't see you for four whole days and then you decide to creep on me in my bedroom? That's not how it works, Tate. I thought were were... friends. Or, whatever the fuck we were. You scared the shit out of me."

The silence that lingered in the room was suffocating, to say the least. Thirty or more seconds passed before Tate gave a solitary sniff, his gaze raising once more, instead of being downcast as his fingers. "I couldn't see you, Vi. My mom she... wouldn't let me."

With the slight amount of light on her side, she could suddenly see the purple blotches across his skin. Bruises. A pang of guilt ran through her, striking her like a match that lit a flame of sorrow inside of her small frame. He had gotten in trouble for spending time with her and now he was risking his safety to come and see her? She found it hard to swallow, the lump in her throat making it difficult to manage.

"What were you gonna do... just... stare at me?" There was a slight teasing hint to her voice, that indicated she was only joking. For the most part.

A solitary smile broke through on his lips, half crooked and somewhat relieved. "Well, I was... Until I heard you moan my name."

Her eyebrows shot upwards, shock rendering her silent once more. Thinking she had heard him wrong, she stammered a bit, hoping that her cheeks weren't flaring red. It wasn't as if he would be able to see if they were, but the point stood clear. "P-pardon? I didn't do that. Don't fucking flatter yourself."

That previously boyish grin had shifted into something of a wicked affair, ultimate glee written across his features. His eyebrow cocked upwards, a challenging look flashing through his eyes as he leaned closer, his lips lingering near her ear. She could feel his breath, hot against her skin as he whispered, "I know what I heard, Violet. Do you need me to make you do it again... Or am I just that good?"


	7. Apologies and Speechlesness

"_I know what I heard, Violet. Do you need me to make you do it again... Or am I just that good?"_ Tate's words rang in her ears, reaching her mind at an impossibly embarrassing speed of slow. He was so close that she could smell the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, that clung to one of the sweaters he wore most often. Her breathing stopped, hitching in her throat for a moment as she let a small laugh out through her nostrils. Moving her head back a bit, so her personal space wasn't so invaded, she ran her tongue across her lips. She watched his eyes follow her every move.

"You're crazy, you know that?" She tried sarcasm, with a blunt hint of dry humour as an attempt to beat him. "Breaking into my bedroom, hearing things... Certifiably insane, you are. You might want to get that checked out." Her expression read confidence, through and through. There was no way she had done such a thing as moan his name in her sleep. She wasn't even dreaming about him! Well... It certainly hadn't been one of those dreams. Either way, Violet Harmon was not one to back down after a few words whispered in her ear.

Tate, however, seemed amused, instead of what she really wanted him to feel. "You want to do this the hard way, then?" His head tilted a bit, that stupid lopsided smile returning to his lips, before he let out an exaggerated sigh. Before Violet could have even hoped to formulate a reply, she found herself pinned to the bed, her wrists trapped in an impressively tight grip. Tate was hovering over top of her, seeming to delight in the way her mouth had parted, surprise forcing her into an expression of confusion. The silence lingered between them, hovering in the air that they both were breathing, recycled after a few shallow breaths. Tate simply stared at her, the dark of his eyes unblinkingly staring into hers. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, thumping away at an incredibly loud volume. It was so loud that she would swear that Tate could hear it.

If he hadn't before, he certainly must have when he was suddenly closer, his lips connecting with hers to press a gentle kiss. It was a contrast, compared to the slight discomfort from how tightly he was holding her wrists. Hesitantly, she kissed him back, their mouths moving together in a surprisingly fragile way. A few seconds passed, however, before Tate suddenly shifted his position, so he was straddling her by the waist, his knees resting on either side of her hips. She was completely trapped beneath him, unable to protest as her lips were still engaged with his.

The kiss grew more passionate; his teeth tugged at her bottom lip, pushing against the tender skin until the faintest taste of iron was invading Violet's mouth. She wriggled a bit, her body desperate to move, instead of being trapped in such a constricting way. Without warning, he pulled back, leaving her to make an embarrassing gasp for air. Again, his lips were near her ear, murmuring soft and low in a way that made her lower stomach pool with heat. "Stop squirming, Vi. I'm gonna make you feel good... Promise."

While Violet was usually witty and filled with hundreds of sharp comebacks, her mind was utterly blank at this moment. She simply half-nodded, half-turned her head to look at him, eyebrows pulled down in a slight fashion of worry. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips in nervous anticipation as Tate's head dipped down, his lips finding their way to her neck. He sucked at the skin, gently coercing the pale flesh to produce an array of marks. Each new one that he made caused Violet's head to rush, her cheeks flushing a light pink. No boy had ever touched her like this before... and from what she could tell, Tate was just getting started.

Eventually, Tate had reached her ear, gently biting the soft part of the lobe, revelling in the soft hum of appreciation that slipped from Violet's throat. "You're a virgin..." The words were hot against her skin. Not a question – a statement. She floundered for a moment, wondering if she should be insulted that he would make such an assumption.

"Y-yeah? How would you know, asshole?" There. That was better. At least she managed to get one more Violet-worthy response instead of just lying there like a dead fish.

However, the chuckle that sounded in his throat made her wonder if she had tested him at the wrong time. Suddenly he manoeuvred her arms so that one of his hands held both of her wrists, pinned above her head so that one of his hands were free. Without any warning whatsoever, his hand slid up her thigh, underneath the skirt she was wearing and past the waistband of her leggings. As his fingers connected with the front of her underwear, she realized for the first time how wet she was, a surprised groan passing her lips. Her cheeks, previously pink, turned a deep crimson that crawled down her neck, fleshing out across her chest.

"Virgins get wet _so_ easily..." He drawled, words slow like molasses in the air, the emphasis he put on 'so' making her tempted to smack him across the face. However, that thought was quickly thrown from her mind as he was letting go of her wrists, finally giving her some freedom as his hands grasped greedily at the fabric of her dress, tugging it off of her easily before he threw it across the room, already working on ridding her of the pesky leggings. As he slid them down her legs, he made sure to watch her the entire time, the corner of his mouth lifted into a self-righteous smirk. He was loving seeing her like this. Before undressing her, he had shifted downwards, so he was no longer pinning her to the bed with his legs or torso.

The slightly cold air raised goosebumps on her skin and suddenly, she felt self conscious about someone, especially Tate, seeing her so exposed. Her arms moved to cross over her chest, gaze averting from the boy above her in a moment of self doubt. Tate, however, was having none of that. "Violet," he started, tone serious as he gently pried her arms away, pushing them down to the bed again. "Don't. You're beautiful... Trust me." He waited a moment, as if he were forcing the words to sink in before he let go of her arms, lips slowly kissing her neck once more. Violet tried to ignore the fact that she felt too naked, grateful for the fact that she still had her underwear and bra on.

Tate's thin fingers ran up her sides, fingernails dragging against the visible and delicate outline of her ribcage that poked through the thin and pale skin. They trailed back down again, to grasp her hipbones in a possessive way, hard enough to make her gasp, trailing off into a moan as he bit a rather sensitive spot above her collarbone. Before she knew it, he was trailing his way down her body, lips caressing every inch of her previously untainted skin that he could reach. It felt like his lips produced fire – a fire that centred between her legs, growing hotter by the second. As he reached the bottom of her stomach, teeth lingering near her hips, he glanced up at her, his eyes set in a gaze that made her swallow the sudden lump in her throat.

Lanky fingers hooked around the top of her underwear, slowly working it down across the thin planes of her thighs, over her knees and finally, to the floor to join the rest of her clothes. His hands gently ran up her legs again, before he parted them, a devilish grin making Violet's mind go numb. Though she had no idea what he was doing, she figured it out fairly quickly when she felt a sudden heat on her most sensitive parts. Tate's mouth. She practically jerked away from surprise, propping herself up on her elbows as she gave him an extremely questioning look.

"Tate, what the fuck are you..." Violet paused, rendered speechless by a particularly long swipe of his tongue against her clit. "O-oh." She knew she sounded stupid, especially as she fell back onto the soft comfort of her pillows again, her fingers threading through the slightly messy mop of hair on top of his head. Whatever he was doing, it was magical, no matter how much the thought of Tate's mouth down there made her somewhat weirded out. What if she tasted bad? Who even thought of doing something like that? But she couldn't think about these things long, for now the blonde was literally sucking the sensitive bud, gently tugging it between his teeth. Violet was a mess. She tried her hardest to hold back the ridiculous sound she was making, though it wasn't necessarily because of her father downstairs on the couch. It was more for the sake of her pride.

But pride was thrown out the metaphorical window when two of Tate's fingers were suddenly sliding inside of her. It was uncomfortable at first, feeling slightly like they didn't belong there. He must have noticed the small noise of unease that she made, for he lifted his face, watching her with concern. "Just relax, Vi. It'll stop hurting, I promise."

She trusted him, giving him a hurried nod, just wanting him to get it the painful part over with. Unsurprisingly, Tate was right. Eventually, the discomfort had slowly shifted into a wonderful thrill that centered in her stomach every time his fingers curled upwards. Her eyes fluttered shut, tongue brushing across her lips for the thousandth time that night. And then, Tate was back to ravishing her with his tongue, his fingers still magnificently coercing her to an unknown feeling. The combination of the two acts were enough to make her incapable of moaning. Instead, her back arched, hips embarrassingly bucking towards Tate as her fingers tried to pull out his hair. In response, Tate pulled his fingers out, holding her by the hips so that she was forced to lie still as he delved right back into pleasuring her. His tongue slipped inside of her, a feeling that felt so devious that it made Violet's thighs clamp around his head.

Without warning, her entire abdomen exploded with a white hot heat, that spread across every inch of her skin, making wherever Tate touched thrill with unexpected pleasure. With heavy breathing, she forced her eyes open, feeling relieved that he was no longer fucking her with his mouth. He waited until she had relaxed, her muscles no longer tensed, before he slowly moved upwards, connecting their lips. She could feel him smiling through the kiss, obviously pleased that he had managed to turn Violet Harmon into a fumbling, moaning mess of a teenage girl. She could taste herself on his lips and though it normally would have freaked her out, she couldn't help but think it was kind of hot.

"I hope that was a good enough apology," he breathed out, his own face looking a bit flushed. A small smile appeared on Violet's lips and she simply nodded, wondering how it was possible to feel so exhausted. Lifting herself a bit, she connected their lips again, lazily running her tongue across his lower lip. He accepted, beginning a gentle pace of exploring each-others mouths. He shifted upwards a bit, pressing his hips between her still open legs, the material of jean rubbing against Violet's still sensitive skin. Pulling away from the kiss, she let out a small gasp, surprised to feel Tate's arousal through his jeans. Staring up at him, she watched as he drew in a slow and even breath, half-lidded eyes watching her carefully.

"Vi, it's okay. I just wanted to make you feel good," he whispered, seeming to pick up on the thought running through her mind. He smiled a bit, though his eyes were still laced with a shimmer of desire, and kissed the side of her mouth, letting his lips linger there. Violet stayed quiet for a few moments, her brain running at a million miles an hour. Her next response surprised even herself.

"I want you to do it."


End file.
